


So Much for Penance

by MorningBirdsong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, M/M, Purgatory, a touch of Benny/Castiel, a touch of Benny/Dean, and vice versa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-07 19:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15225909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorningBirdsong/pseuds/MorningBirdsong
Summary: The only thing Castiel likes about Dean's plan is the part where Dean escapes Purgatory.  Making that happen means keeping his own plan a secret.This is a story about Dean and Castiel, but none of it could have happened without Benny.





	So Much for Penance

Meeting Benny changed everything for Dean, and not just because he knew the way out. As much as anything, it was the way Benny was always touching him. At first it was just a clap on the back, an arm around the shoulders, playful shoves and punches. But it wasn’t long before Benny started making Dean uneasy, randomly grabbing or hugging, sitting so close their legs touched, rolling closer to him as they slept so Dean would wake up and feel Benny’s back against his or even Benny’s arm across his body. If Dean moved away or said, “Cut it out” or “Give me some space, man,” Benny would just laugh.

One day as they stood in a little clearing at the top of a hill, listening, watching, catching their breath, Benny stepped toward Dean and laid a hand on his shoulder. “That neck of yours sure is pretty, boy.” He leaned in, smiling. “Humans smell better than vampires.” Dean stepped back in alarm. Benny grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry, no blades.” He opened his mouth in a grin, showing nothing but ordinary teeth. “I just like the way you smell, that’s all.”

Dean pulled away and took another step back. “Are you gay, Benny?”

“Am I what?”

“Queer. Homosexual. Because I’m not. I just want to be clear about that.”

“I’m dead is what I am. _Homosexual_. _Monster_. _Sin_. You think words like that mean anything here? Here, we are what we are and we do what we want and that’s all there is to it. None of it matters.”

After they were on the move again, Benny said, “Sorry I scared you, brother.” He laughed. “I don’t know if you were more scared that I was gonna bite you or that I was gonna kiss you.” 

Dean said nothing. He didn’t know either.

“I ain’t ever gonna bite you,” said Benny. “If you were ever gonna trust anyone here, which you shouldn’t, you could trust me not to bite you.”

Dean believed him. It scared him to see himself making that mistake, but it had gotten to the point where he couldn’t help trusting Benny.

“I was the same as you, back in the day,” said Benny. “Pretty much only liked women. I can’t say I even remember why it mattered to me. Now I guess I like anyone who’s not trying to kill me.”

Dean got used to the touching and then he got to depend on it. It was an antidote to all the blood and pain and fear. After a while he would sometimes be the one to lean against Benny or start a wrestling match he knew would end with the two of them clinging to each other, laughing, taking comfort in the closeness. One night when they were lying in the dry spot under a rock overhang, both too exhausted to stay up and keep watch, Dean said, “Move closer, it’s cold.” He fell asleep with Benny’s arm wrapped around him. Benny was right; it didn’t matter. In Purgatory, there was no judgment, no shame, nothing to stop him from doing whatever he wanted.

* * *

Separated from Dean, surrounded by monsters, hunted and hated, Castiel was miserable in a way that was almost fulfilling. It was what he deserved. Every time he thought of what he had done, he thought, “And now I’m paying for it,” and it eased the pain.

The only thing that brought him any happiness was also the thing that hurt the most – hearing Dean’s prayers to him, knowing Dean was still alive and still thinking of him and knowing he could never go to Dean, not if he wanted to keep him safe. He would be here forever doing penance, and he would never see Dean again. All he could do was try to protect him.

And then suddenly Dean showed up with a vampire and a plan. So much for eternal penance. So much for keeping Dean safe. Just as Castiel had feared, Leviathans found them almost immediately. A near disaster. And then there was nothing for it but to follow the vampire into the hills.

They kept moving as long as they could. Finally Benny called a halt for Dean’s sake. Castiel knew it was for Dean because he was the one who sank to the ground and leaned back against a tree trunk, while the vampire paced around peering through the trees and sniffing the air. 

“I fucked up my knee somehow,” said Dean. “It’s starting to hurt worse.” Castiel was ashamed to realize he had been too busy worrying about Dean getting killed in the next fight to notice how he was doing right now. He squatted in front of Dean and touched two fingers to his forehead, feeling him ease as everything healed – bruises, cuts, wrenched muscles, the sore knee, the broken finger.

Dean let out a long breath. “Damn, that feels good.” He clenched and stretched his fingers, stood up and shifted his weight from leg to leg, testing his knee. “Oh, yeah, I’m good to go. Thanks.”

“I wish I could have come to heal you before this,” said Castiel. “I wanted to, every time you prayed. I wanted to let you know I heard you. But I knew I would only draw more danger to you. There would have been no point healing you just to see you die.”

“You couldn’t have come back once for half a minute just to tell me that?”

“I suppose I could have. I should have. Sometimes I have a tendency to think in absolutes and go to extremes.”

“No kidding. Well, here’s an absolute for you: You’re not leaving me again, no matter what.”

“All right.” Castiel had to agree. If there really was a way out, he had to make sure Dean got there and clearly that meant going with him. There was no way he could tell Dean now that he meant to stay in Purgatory.

* * *

Another Leviathan found them later that day. And then there were werewolves. But by the time it started to get dark they had seen no monsters for at least an hour, so it seemed safe to stop and rest. 

Benny said, “Day one with the angel was pretty goddamn intense. And it’s only going to get worse.”

Dean was exhausted. It had been a long time since he and Benny had been angry with each other and he didn’t have the energy for it now. Better keep it light. He said, “Ah, you’re just jealous. You want to be the only one saving my bacon.” As he said it, he realized it was true. Of course Benny was jealous. He put a hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Come on, man, you can’t go all Cowardly Lion on me now. Like you can’t handle whatever comes at us.”

“I don’t think I _can_ handle what he brings on us.”

“You knew all along what the deal was.”

“I did. And you knew all along I didn’t like it.”

“Too bad. You know me well enough by now to know I’m not changing my mind.”

“I surely do.” Benny fell silent. Dean didn’t want to fight, but Benny’s sad resignation was almost worse. 

Dean put his arms around Benny. “We’re all getting out of here,” he said. “Guaranteed.” Benny hugged him back but said nothing.

* * *

When Dean and Benny let go of each other they both still looked troubled. Dean walked over to Castiel. “You good, Cas?”

“No,” said Castiel. “I have misgivings about so many aspects of this situation I don’t even know where to begin.” There was no point trying to talk to Dean about any of it, so he changed the subject. “What happened to the personal space rule? You and Benny –”

“There are no rules here.”

“Oh,” said Castiel. He stepped closer to Dean.

Dean laughed. “Cas, you’re such a freakin’ weirdo.” He grabbed Castiel by the shoulders. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you back, man.” He pulled Castiel into a hug. Again. Dean had hugged him more times today than he had in all the years they had known each other before Purgatory.

Castiel offered to keep watch while Dean and Benny slept, but Benny insisted on staying up too. He clearly didn’t trust Castiel. A couple of hours after they had stopped, Castiel and Benny heard voices, so they had to rouse Dean and move on. The next rest didn’t last much longer. At least they were able to slip away again without a fight. Later, as they walked softly through the shadowy forest, a woman – an okami – jumped Benny, who was in the lead. But she was alone, so she died before she had time to realize Benny wasn’t alone. 

Benny lifted one of her arms and swung his machete to separate it from the body. 

“What are you doing?” Castiel asked.

“Dean has to eat,” said Benny. He carried the arm with him as they moved on through the woods.

It was nearly dawn when they stopped again. Dean lay down and immediately fell asleep. Benny was finally beginning to look tired but he just settled himself on the ground with a tree at his back, pulled out a thin knife and started cutting strips of meat off the arm bone and piling them on a rock. He ignored Castiel.

* * *

Another day, another Leviathan battle, another argument with Cas as they all tried to rest afterwards. Benny was asleep but Dean was too hyped up.

Cas said, “You have to remember, I may not be able to get out.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” said Dean. “You were able to get out of freaking _Hell_. Twice. If you could get out of Hell, why wouldn’t you be able to get out of Purgatory?”

“This is different. I just want you to be prepared to go without me.”

Dean said, “Cas . . . I think you’re still messed up in the head, man. Thinking the best way to help me was to hide from me? Thinking you can’t get out of here? You’re not thinking straight. But why would you be? Before we got zapped here, you were still completely off your rocker and there’s no way being alone in Purgatory for months made you _better_.”

“Being here made you better,” said Cas. “I can feel it.” He put a hand on Dean’s forehead. “You’re tense, you’re full of adrenaline. But the guilt, the doubt, the sadness, the anger – so much of that is gone. You’re even better now than you were the day you found me.”

“Of course I’m better. _Because_ I found you, you son of a bitch. I got better once I was with Benny and then I found you and got better again. But I was a fucking mess when I was alone. That was bad. It was really fucking bad. And you were alone for longer.”

“I’m an angel. Given enough time, I can heal myself. I don’t need help from anyone else.”

“Oh, right, you’re so fucking healed now. Look at you. You barely talk. You look like you’re about to cry pretty much every minute of every day. You’re stewing over a heap of shit you’re not telling me about. As usual. But before it’s always been some secret plan or some power grab. I don’t think it’s anything like that now. I don’t know what it is. I think you’re just fucked up. But you can get better, I’m sure you can. Like you said, you’re an angel; you can heal yourself. I just think you’re wrong about not needing any help.”

* * *

Castiel had to admit to himself that he was jealous of Benny. He envied the easy, playful intimacy he had with Dean. Most of all he envied the moments of shared understanding – the times when Benny and Dean exchanged glances with a head shake, an eye roll, a smile or a grimace. Sometimes it was about him and that made it worse.

Of all the humans who had ever lived, Dean was Castiel’s favorite. He couldn’t have explained why it was Dean and not Sam or any of the billions of other deserving humans, but it was Dean. Castiel loved Dean as he had never loved anyone else, angel or human. But he couldn’t remember the two of them ever having one of those little unspoken conversations. They didn’t pat each other on the back or punch each other on the arm or wrestle with each other, either. Castiel had spent a lot of time watching Dean, admiring Dean, worrying about Dean. But he was beginning to feel that he hadn’t spent enough time _connecting_ with Dean. Maybe he could learn from Benny how to do that.

For all his jealousy of Benny, Castiel couldn’t help liking him. There was goodness in him that Castiel hadn’t expected.

One day Benny said to him, “I never thought I’d be running with an angel. But you’re all right, Cas, you really are. And it seems like maybe you’re even coming around to thinking I’m all right. Abomination that I am.”

“I owe you a debt of gratitude,” said Castiel. “You’re the reason Dean is still alive.”

“And you’re the reason he’s here,” said Benny. “So I’d say we’re even.”

_You’re the reason he’s here_. It hurt even more coming from someone else. 

But sometimes after that Castiel found himself thinking about the rest of what Benny had said: _I’d say we’re even_. Everything that had happened, Castiel’s mistakes, his hubris, all the deaths – in the end it was going to mean Benny’s salvation. (A temporary but potentially long-lasting salvation, given that a vampire could theoretically live forever.) Sometimes, while he was battering himself with guilt and shame, he would think about where this was leading, about Benny walking free in the world above, and sometimes that was enough to pull him out of it for a while.

* * *

Two machetes swung, a light flashed and the last three vampires in the gang fell almost simultaneously. Benny, Dean and Cas all turned to face each other. Benny said, “Damn, this is starting to feel too easy!”

“The angel’s pretty handy in a fight, huh?” said Dean.

“Oh yeah,” said Benny. “He’s the friggin’ third musketeer. _Almost_ makes up for him being Leviathan bait.”

Cas walked toward Benny and Dean. “Any injuries?”

“I’m all right,” said Benny. “A bruise or two. Looks like you got the worst of it this time, wingman.” Cas had pushed up the sleeve of his grimy raincoat, exposing a long cut on one forearm. These vampires had been carrying knives. 

Cas started to lay a hand on the cut, but Benny said, “Hold on.” He picked up Cas’s arm. “Let’s see if you taste as good as you look.” He bent and licked at the blood. “Huh.” A little smile. “I never had anything like _that_ before.”

Impulsively, Dean took Cas’s arm and ran his tongue over a trickle of blood. 

“What do you think?” Benny asked.

Dean shrugged, embarrassed. “Same as mine.”

“Ah, what do you know? You’re not a connoisseur.”

Cas stood patiently. He looked mildly amused. “Does anyone want more before I heal myself?”

Benny said, “Don’t mind if I do.” He lifted Cas’s arm and slowly cleaned off the blood, a dreamy look on his face.

* * *

“Getting me out shouldn’t be so important to you,” said Castiel. “It’s my fault we’re here. I don’t deserve –”

“Nope. You shut that right down. That whole guilt thing. There’s no need for that here. You know, Benny said something to me one time about how in Purgatory everything just is what it is. He’s got it right. Things are pure here. _We’re_ pure. Just let yourself be and don’t muddy it up with guilt.”

Castiel knew that wasn’t right. He _should_ be ashamed. He _should_ feel guilt. But there were hours and then even days at a time when he stopped feeling it. His days and his mind were filled with all the business of keeping Dean and Benny alive and moving toward the portal. Hiding, fighting, healing, getting food for Dean, finding routes across hills and rivers, through swamps and brush, and always, every moment of every day and night, staying alert, watching and listening and feeling for monsters. 

And on top of all that, trying to connect to Dean. To Benny, too, but that didn’t take much effort. Benny did enough touching and teasing for both of them. All Castiel had to do was let it happen. It was a relief to know that what Benny had with Dean wasn’t special; it was just how Benny was. But it was frustrating to see that Benny could become Dean’s best friend without even trying, when Castiel wasn’t sure he could do it with any amount of work.

Castiel tried to touch Dean more, the way Benny did. But as often as not his timing was off. He’d reach for Dean just as he was moving away or startle him while he was busy with something. He wasn’t good at banter. He tried for sympathetic conversations about feelings a couple of times. (“You must miss Sam.” “Are you worried that Benny might be mistaken about the way out?”) But Dean would have none of that.

There were times, though, when everything clicked. One morning as he watched Dean sitting on the bank of a stream shaving himself with his knife he was suddenly struck by the humor of it and he started to laugh.

Dean looked over at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Who but Dean Winchester would shave every day in Purgatory? That’s what I like about you, Dean. You never give up. Against all odds, you never stop trying to get laid.”

Benny said, “You ever think he might be doing it for you, cherub?” He flashed Castiel a wicked grin. Castiel rolled his eyes à la Dean.

Dean grinned too. He walked over and punched Castiel on the arm. “Who pulled the stick out of your ass?” They all headed off into the woods together laughing, the three musketeers. That was a good moment.

When Castiel started feeling guilty about forgetting to feel guilty he told himself there would be time for that later. All the time in the world, after Dean and Benny were out.

* * *

Dean turned and almost ran into Cas. “Cas, what the hell? This thing where you’re always tagging at my heels like a lost puppy . . .”

Cas said, “Sorry, I thought . . .”

Jesus. His face. Dean felt like he’d just kicked a lost puppy. The poor guy. Poor fucked up Cas. He said, “No, it’s okay. I’m just . . . on edge. Those Leviathans today. I don’t really mind. Stand as close to me as you want.”

Cas took a step that put him right next to Dean, their feet touching. Dean shook his head, laughed and then put his arms around Cas and pulled him close, held onto him like something precious, because he was. In a world where almost everyone wanted to kill him, anyone who wanted to keep him alive was immeasurably precious. Dean thought of all the good reasons he had ever had for being angry with Cas and suddenly he felt the weight of those sins and that anger the way Cas must feel it. All that time alone, carrying that weight. Not just in Purgatory – before, too. Cas had been mostly alone for a long time. No wonder he was broken. 

Dean said, “I know your head’s still not right. I know you’re scared you’re going to get left behind here, but that’s not going to happen, I promise you. If you can’t get out the first time we try, I’m staying here with you. We’ll figure something out. I’m not leaving you alone.”

* * *

It had been a bad two days. They had been fighting or running most of the time, barely able to catch their breath, let alone sleep. And now they were in the middle of what Dean called “this goddamn motherfucking swamp.” A faint trail threaded through the trees, following the highest ground. Even where there wasn’t standing water it was all mud and moss and sodden leaves. No way to sit down without getting soaked. The other side of the swamp was hours away, maybe even a day away at their current pace, and Dean and Benny were getting slower all the time, stumbling and pausing to lean against trees.

Benny stopped, looking down at the ground and ahead through the trees. “I think that’s the way we want to go,” he said, pointing to the right. “But this could be a path here, too.” Dean and Castiel caught up with him and looked at the two possible trails. It could be either one, or neither of them. Benny put a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “How you holdin’ up, brother?” 

“I’m still alive,” said Dean. “That’s more than you can say.”

Benny laughed. “I’m gonna scout a little, walk a ways down each trail. You wait here.”

They waited. Dean swayed and put a hand on a tree to steady himself. Castiel stepped off the trail. He took off his raincoat, laid it on the soggy ground and sat down next to it with his back against a tree. It didn’t matter if he got wet. He said, “Dean, come here.” Dean turned to look at him. “Lie on the coat with your head on my legs.” Dean didn’t even argue. He was already asleep by the time Benny came back. 

“Okay, figured it out,” Benny said. “We go to the right. That other path peters out after a quarter mile.”

“He needs to rest before we go on,” said Castiel.

“Yeah, I could stand to rest a little too.”

“I wish I had another coat. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” said Benny. “I’ll make do.” He walked off into the swampy woods and came back dragging a tree limb big enough around to sit on. He pulled it next to Castiel and settled himself onto it, leaning back against the tree trunk and sideways against Castiel.

Castiel sat with his hands on Dean, feeling his breaths and his heartbeat. Next to him, Benny dozed and shifted uncomfortably. After a while, Dean began twitching and mumbling. His heart was racing. Dreaming of an attack, no doubt. 

When he was still only half awake, Castiel heard his prayer: _Cas, I need you!_

He rubbed Dean’s back and said, “I’m already here.”

Dean raised himself onto an elbow, lifted his head and looked around. “I thought you left again. But you didn’t.”

“No, I’m right here.” 

Dean put his head back down, laid a hand on Castiel’s leg and fell asleep again.

Castiel could have sat there all day watching Dean sleep, listening to him breathe, feeling the warmth of his body. But they needed to get out of this swamp. Benny needed to lie down too. So they moved on again after a few hours. The rest had helped, but it was a long, slow struggle. As soon as they finally found themselves walking uphill out of the swamp they stopped and Benny and Dean sank onto the dry leaves and fell asleep. 

Castiel lay down beside Dean and put an arm around him. He didn’t ask. He knew he didn’t need to. After a couple of hours Dean woke up just enough to roll over and hold onto him. All afternoon and all night, Dean slept and Castiel lay next to him. It was such a good thing, two bodies comforting each other, keeping each other warm. Castiel had never known how good it was. He wondered now why people ever slept alone. Why didn’t Sam and Dean share a bed? Why didn’t motels pair up people who were traveling alone?

Of course, sleeping with a stranger wouldn’t be as good as this. Castiel loved Dean for his soul, but since the soul was in this body, he had come to love the body too – the shape of his mouth and nose, his fingernails, his eyelashes, the way he smelled. There was no place Castiel would rather be than next to Dean’s body. But the best thing about this wasn’t the way Castiel felt; it was the way it made Dean feel. Castiel couldn’t tell what Dean was thinking or dreaming, not without being far too intrusive, but if he probed just a little he could tell what he was feeling. His usual tense vigilance was letting up; he felt safer. And there was something else, too – a sense of warmth, something that could almost be called contentment, even gladness. As if he could feel Castiel’s love.

Castiel began to understand love differently that night. His love for Dean had always been something private that lived in his mind – or, if he wanted to be poetic about it, in his heart. But what good did that do? Dean might not even know about it. He probably didn’t. When had Dean ever paid attention to anyone else’s feelings? He didn’t even like to pay attention to his own. For his love to mean anything, Castiel realized, it had to be more than just a feeling.

What he felt in his heart made no difference to Dean, but holding onto him like this did. And so he kept doing it. He kept trying to make Dean feel loved. After that, when Dean lay down to sleep, Castiel was there with him as much as possible. Never for the whole night again. That was a luxury they couldn’t afford. Someone had to keep watch and it made sense for it to be the one who didn’t need to sleep. But sometimes Benny was awake, or the monsters seemed far away, or he decided to take a chance. Castiel reached for Dean more and more during the days, too. And he knew it was making a difference to Dean, because Dean reached for him just as often. 

Now and then Castiel let himself imagine what could happen if he told Dean he was determined to stay here and let Dean make his own choice. Maybe Dean really would stay with him and everything could go on as it was. Maybe it was even what Dean wanted. Purgatory suited him; that was clear, despite his single-minded devotion to the mission of escaping it. But there was Benny to think about. And Sam.

* * *

Cas was getting better. He was really _here_ most of the time now, not off somewhere in his own crazy thoughts. The best way to keep him here, it turned out, was just to hold onto him. Since finding Cas, Dean had wished more than once that he could heal Cas’s mind the way Cas healed Dean’s body, by reaching out and touching him. And it turned out that he could. Every time Dean let Cas lie down next to him, every time they hugged or sat leaning against each other on the same log, Cas got a little better. And so did Dean. Dean held onto Cas as much as he could now. Sometimes they even held hands as they walked through the woods, and it didn’t feel ridiculous; it felt fine. It was amazing, really, how many things felt fine if you just let them be and didn’t worry about how they looked or what they meant. 

Dean was going to heal Cas and he was going to get him out of here. He tried not to think too much about what would happen after that. He and Benny would have to part ways. Things would have to be different between him and Cas. Did Cas understand that they wouldn’t be sharing a bed or sitting in restaurants with their arms around each other? Maybe not. Probably not. When had he ever understood anything about how people acted? But Dean wasn’t going to worry about that now. Now it was just about surviving another day, finding the portal, and getting everyone through it.

* * *

One evening Castiel came back from patrolling to find Dean and Benny on the ground wrestling like puppies. Killer puppies. Benny pinned Dean and then flopped over onto his back. Dean got up and sat on a log, breathing hard and looking happy. “Hey, Cas.” 

As they closed in on the portal, Benny’s mood got more buoyant every day. Dean alternated between high spirits and high tension. This was one of his good days. He said, “Hey, Benny, what’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get out?” 

Benny rolled over and propped himself up on one elbow. “Well, I have some personal business to take care of. A few loose ends, you might say. But first, the very first thing? I’m gonna go to the beach. At night, when I can be alone. I’m gonna sit and watch the sun set and the stars come out. I’m just gonna sit there all night, listen to the waves, look up at the stars and know nothing is coming after me. How about you?”

“I’ll call Sam right away,” said Dean. “Let him know he can stop looking for me. And then on my way to see him, I’m gonna stop for cheeseburgers. I’ll get some pie. Then I’ll probably stop for some more cheeseburgers and pie. I’ll meet up with Sammy and he’ll hug me and cry a little. I’ll take a shower and sleep in a bed and maybe I’ll get up in the middle of the night and eat more pie.” He added, “You can come with me, Cas. If you don’t have a place in heaven anymore.”

“ _If_?”

Dean reached out and grabbed Castiel’s hand and pulled him closer, pulled him down to sit on the ground in front of him. He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders. 

Benny said, “Sounds like you and me are in the same boat, wingman. Can’t go back to the way it used to be, ‘cause the way it used to be already went up in flames. Nothing to do but start over. You can come sit on the beach with me anytime you want and we can commiserate. Having an angel on my side ought to come in handy out there.”

Castiel wished this never had to end. He wanted to sit here forever with Dean’s arms around him. But more than that, more than anything, he wanted Dean to be eating pie and talking to Sam, and Benny to be on the beach listening to the waves. 

It was the strength of that wish that pulled him through the next few days and kept him quiet every time Dean talked about getting him out. That was what he fought for when the Leviathans found them. That was what made him follow Dean as he struggled toward the portal and take his hand as if he meant to let Dean pull him through. It wasn’t until the portal was closing with Dean safely inside it that Castiel pulled away and shouted, “Go!” 

Afterwards, Castiel sent himself to a random hillside miles away. He sat for a long time looking out over the valley below and then he started walking. Just walking, with no destination. 

It took a couple of days for him to understand what he had done. He came upon a stream early one morning and he sat down beside it to watch the flowing water. Even here, there was beauty. He thought of Dean and Benny, out there in the world, gathering up all the loose ends of the complicated lives they had come back to. And here he was, away from it all, where everything was simple and nothing mattered. He realized in that moment that he hadn’t chosen penance; he had chosen to escape it. He felt no shame, only clarity. He saw himself the way he saw the stream, the ferns, the white-barked trees, without judgment. He was what he was and that was all. Pure.


End file.
